Nicole

I recite this to myself, every time I am on an airplane.

AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

Sara Teasdale
NIGHT

Stars over snow
       And in the west a planet
Swinging below a star–
       Look for a lovely thing and you will find it,
It is not far–
       It will never be far.

So I’ve been sending out resumes for the last couple months which have the wrong ZIP code in my address.

Well, if they’re contacting by mail, it would only be a rejection, right? Right?

Waaah!

LIFE’S TRAGEDY

It may be misery not to sing at all
And to go silent through the brimming day.
It may be sorrow never to be loved,
But deeper griefs than these beset the way.

To have come near to sing the perfect song
And only by a half-tone lost the key,
There is the potent sorrow, there the grief,
The pale, sad staring of life’s tragedy.

To have just missed the perfect love,
Not the hot passion of untempered youth,
But that which lays aside its vanity
And gives thee, for thy trusting worship, truth-

This, this it is to be accursed indeed;
For if we mortals loves, or if we sing,
We count our joys not by the things we have,
But by what kept us from the perfect thing.

It ain’t hockey?

How many times have I said that? But looks like it’s time to get myself a new team.

Before the lockout, it would have been inconceivable that the Bruins would give away Thornton, Samsonov, Rolston, Knuble, Raycroft, and… and… BOYNTON!!!! NO!!!!

I can’t be a Coyotes fan. Even with Gretz there. I just can’t. They were lame as the Winnipeg Jets. They are the only WHA-era team who hasn’t managed to get in line with the NHL and win a Stanley Cup. And the whole unretiring thing the last few years has just been ridiculous.

*Sigh.*

I blame the lockout and the new rules.

Okay, so posting lyrics ventures dangerously close to Livejournal/Xanga/AIM profile territory. But this song gets me right here *Celine Dion-style chest-thunk* every time. Which to me is a sign of good poetry.

Bruce Springsteen

Thunder Road
The screen door slams
Mary's dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch
As the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside
darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero
That's understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now
Except roll down the window
And let the wind blow back your hair
Well the night's busting open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back
Heaven's waiting on down the tracks
Oh oh come take my hand
Riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh oh Thunder Road, oh Thunder Road
oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
Oh Thunder Road, sit tight take hold
Thunder Road

Well I got this guitar
And I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back
If you're ready to take that long walk
>From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely
For words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free
All the promises'll be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes
Of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets

They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind, so Mary climb in
It's a town full of losers
And I'm pulling out of here to win.

Prospective Immigrants Please Note
Adrienne Rich

Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.

If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.

Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.

If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily

to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely

but much will blind you,
much will evade you,
at what cost who knows?

The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.

Lindsey: When does Snoop Dogg need an umbrella?

Nic: When it’s raining cats and dogs?

Lindsey: When it’s fo-drizzle!

X

Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire. And when I say at need
I love thee . . . mark! . . . I love thee—in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There's nothing low
In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures
Who love God, God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature's.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THE LIGHT OF STARS

The night is come, but not too soon;
 And sinking silently,
All silently, the little moon
 Drops down behind the sky.

There is no light in earth or heaven
 But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of the night is given
 To the red planet Mars.

Is it the tender star of love?
 The star of love and dreams?
O no! from that blue tent above
 A hero’s armor gleams.

And earnest thoughts within me rise,
 When I behold afar,
Suspended in the evening skies,
 The shield of that red star.

O star of strength!  I see thee stand
 And smile upon my pain;
Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand
 And I am strong again.

Within my breast there is no light,
 But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night
 To the red planet Mars.

The star of the unconquered will,
 He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
 And calm, and self-possessed.

And thou, too, whosoe’er thou art,
 That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
 Be resolute and calm.

O fear not in a world like this,
 And thou shalt know ere long,
Know how sublime a thing it is,
 To suffer and be strong.